How Christmas came to the OZ
by Winged Monkey's Dream
Summary: D.G. tells Ambrose about Christmas back on the Other Side. Now he wants to surprise her with a real Christmas party. His preparations cause Cain more than one headache though...
1. Death of a Tree

Death of a Tree

Cain returned after a long day at work. He was looking forward to his sofa and possibly Ambrose's lap as a pillow. And maybe, if he was lucky, Ambrose had been home early enough to prepare a nice meal. His stomach growled at the thought. All day, he hadn't had the time for a proper meal and now he was starving. He opened the door, humming.

And nearly tripped over a box. The entire living room floor was strewn with these boxes, containing strange little glass balls in all colors of the rainbow. His beloved sofa was covered in metallic sparkling threads. In front of the window stood a fir of at least two meters height. Cain sighed heavily.

"What in the eclipse is the headcase up to this time?" he wondered vexedly. "This better not be one of his experiments again!" Only last month, he'd come home to find the kitchen turned into a laboratory. All countertops had been covered with bottles and tubes and other equipment Cain couldn't even name. They had to eat out for a week since Ambrose claimed his experiment mustn't be disturbed. And it had taken another two weeks to get the acrid smell out of the rooms.

"Glitch!" he called grimly, kicking some of the boxes out of the way to make it through the living room. The advisor had gotten his brain back half an annual ago and once again thought of himself as Ambrose. Still, his friends continued calling him Glitch and he didn't mind. It had become a treasured endearment.

"Welcome home, sweetheart." Ambrose emerged from the bedroom, grinning widely. Glitter sparkled in his curls and on his cheeks.

Cain only folded his arms before his chest. His fingers drummed impatiently on his elbow. "Would you explain this to me?" he demanded.

But Ambrose was not in the least impressed by his bad mood. "Aww, come on. Don't be such a grumpy old man," he warbled and crossed the distance to place a light kiss on Cain's cheek. "It's Christmas!"

"It's what?" Cain knew he'd regret asking the moment the words left his lips.

"Christmas!" Ambrose explained excitedly. "It's a tradition from the Other Side. D.G. told me about it. She's depressed because her mother won't allow her to celebrate it. She says she has to get used to our customs, if she wants to be queen one day…"

"D.G., of course, who else could've been behind this," Cain thought to himself, rolling his eyes. Nothing good could ever come out of it when these two put their heads together. "And so you decided you would prepare a Christmas celebration for her, right?" he concluded, rubbing his pounding temples. By now, he knew his scarecrow and his ill-conceived plans all too well.

Ambrose beamed, "Exactly! You're gonna love it. There's lots of food and gifts and everyone has lots of fun."

The Tin Man highly doubted it. "And what's all this for?" He spread his arms, indicating the mess around him.

"That's for decoration," the advisor stated matter-of-factly. He picked up one of the boxes. "Look, I had these especially made, following D.G.'s description. They're being put on the tree like this." He took one of the red balls from the box and hung it onto a branch. "I couldn't decide on a color. So I just told them to use every color they had. What do you think…?" he rambled on.

Cain could only shake his head disbelieving. "And that's why you had to cut down that poor tree? For decoration?"

"Oh no, I didn't. Jeb and his friends did," Ambrose smiled.

"I can't believe you even got my son involved in this. Are you all out of your mind?" Cain decided he was definitely too tired for this conversation. All he wanted was his peace and quiet.

Before he could say any more on the matter, the door behind him swung open. "Hey, Glitch, I brought the ladder," his son called and accidentally jabbed the ladder into his back.

Cain growled under his breath and counted silently to five to calm himself.

"Sorry, dad. I didn't see you," Jeb apologized casually as he passed him and arranged the ladder in front of the tree. "Now, let's get started," he grinned at Ambrose, rubbing his hands expectantly. "Dad, you're helping, too?" He climbed up the run and the advisor handed him the red glass balls.

Cain couldn't believe the scene playing out in front of him. "What did he do to make you do this?" he asked his son, "Did he bribe you? Threaten you?"

Jeb just shrugged, "It sounds like fun!"

In response, his father only threw him a sharp look and shook his head, leaving for the bedroom.

"You really are no fun, you know that, Tin Man?" Ambrose called after him teasingly, but Cain didn't react to it. "Where are you going anyway?" he tried again.

"I'm taking a bath," Cain barked and slammed the door shut behind him.

The bath had relaxed him and lifted his spirits. He still felt hungry though. Cain only hoped he could make it past these two maniacs to the kitchen, without being drawn into this Christmas mess again. Carefully, he peered around the bedroom wall. It was quiet in the living room. Ambrose was sitting at the dining table alone, a bowl of steaming hot soup in front of him.

"Where's Jeb?" Cain asked, looking around.

"He left once we were done. I thought you might be hungry." He pushed the bowl over in an invitation for Cain to join him.

The Tin Man couldn't stop the smile from spreading on his face. "You're the best, you know that?" He sat down and relished the soup. Its warmth revived him and he felt bad about his outburst before. "I'm sorry about earlier," he mumbled.

Ambrose got up and came around the table. Stroking his hair, he placed a feather light kiss on the crown of his head. "You look tired, Tin Man."

Cain leaned into the touch. "I am," he sighed, relaxed now.

The advisor lead him to the sofa, now rid of the shiny stuff, sat them down and pulled Cain's head into his lap. Softly, he massaged his scalp.

As his eyes slowly drifted shut, Cain examined the tree. It was richly decorated in red and purple colored glass balls; candles burned in the branches and made the tinsel sparkle. The candles emited a warm light and the fir gave off a subtle sent of forest. It actually had a soothing effect on Cain. "Nice job, headcase," he commented. "Though I still think it's a pity to kill a tree for this…"


	2. Cookies and other Disasters

Cookies and other Disasters

Cain woke up to a disgustingly sweet smell. The second sun was just about to rise. He turned on his left side and was surprised to find Ambrose's side of the bed empty. That was strange. Usually, he had to use every trick he had up his sleeve to get the headcase out of bed at all. After all those years he'd spent left to himself as Glitch, sleeping whenever and wherever he wanted, it was near impossible to wake him. Now he was up before sunrise. And his sheets and pillow had grown cold which meant he had to be for quite a while already. He rubbed his eyes blearily, wondering what was going on.

Clattering could be heard from the kitchen, followed by a scream. Within a second, Cain was out of bed and in the kitchen, the gun that always rested on his nightstand at the ready. "What happened?" he panted.

Ambrose was standing in the kitchen, tears glistening in his eyes, and nursed his left hand. A backing sheet lay at his feet. Cookies were strewn all over the kitchen floor. "I burned my hand," he sobbed, holding out his injured hand.

Cain had come out of his shock state and now had to laugh about the mess presented to him. The countertops and floor were covered in wheat and sugar and sticky dough. Bowls and spoons cluttered the sink. Cookies had been spread out on the dining table, both the cookies and the tabletop painted with rainbow-colored sugarcoating. And in the middle of it all stood Ambrose. He had the goggles, he normally only used in his lab, pushed up into his hair. His curls, shirt, and pants were dusted with wheat. A smear of dough stuck to his right cheek. And he still held out his hand for Cain to examine, sobbing. He looked like a mix of a mad scientist and a four annual old caught with his hands in the cookie jar – actually, he looked more like Glitch then ever since he got his brain back.

His paternal instincts got the better of him and Cain climbed over the piles of cookies and the sheet to get to Ambrose, careful not to touch any of the sticky surfaces. "Here, let me see." He took the hand presented to him and carefully examined it. There was a dark red streak across the palm. It hadn't blistered though, meaning the burn wasn't too serious. Ambrose flinched anyway. "Aww, come on, Glitchy. It's not that bad. We'll just cool it a little and by the day after tomorrow, it'll be all healed."

Ambrose only looked at him disbelieving, the tears still welling up. "Liar!" he sniffled.

"Don't act like a baby!" Cain teased, smiling. He cleared the sink and turned on the faucet. Then he gently guided Ambrose's hand under the cool running water. "That better?"

"No!" Ambrose moped now in his best Glitch-manner.

Cain sighed. He hadn't had to deal with anything like this since he had to nurse little Jeb's scraped knees. He went to the ice box and rummaged for some ice cubes, wrapping them in what he hoped was a clean towel. The package he tied around Ambrose's ailing hand. "How about that? Better now?"

Ambrose only shook his head, the tears actually running down his cheeks now. Cain took pity in him. "Poor baby." He took his face in his hands and kissed away the tears, stroking his messy curls.

Cain pulled out a chair and sat down, drawing Ambrose into his lap. He undid the bandage and gently blew on the brunt skin, kissing it tenderly.

"What are you doing?" Ambrose asked confused, his tears stilled for the moment.

The Tin Man laughed, "I'm kissing it better, silly. Is it working?"

Ambrose nodded and rested his head on Cain's shoulder. Who kissed his forehead and stroked a hand through his hair, sending a cloud of wheat into the air. "What were you doing here anyway? It's not even time for you to be up yet."

The advisor looked around the kitchen – or what was left of it – and smiled sheepishly. "D.G. told me about the Christmas cookies. So I decided when we're having a Christmas party we also need cookies. I was up all night, studying the recipes. And then I was so excited I couldn't sleep. So I thought I might as well get started. But this is harder than it looks…"

Upon closer examination, Cain saw that quite a few of the cookies were slightly burnt. The charred edges were hidden under thick layers of icing. Ambrose picked one that looked fine and put it in Cain's mouth. "Try this!"

The usually tough Tin Man chewed, swallowed and grimaced. The sweetness was overwhelming, the texture dry as dust. He coughed. "Mmh. They're really good," he tried to cover up the slip of his expression.

"Liar! They taste horrible!" Ambrose got excited, cuffing Cain lightly in the chest.

"And here I thought you were a scientist and knew how to mix chemicals," Cain teased.

"Not funny!" the advisor chided. He buried his face, still hot from the tears, in Cain's neck.

"Aww, it's not that bad. Look, no one knows anything about Christmas and cookies anyway. We'll just tell the others they're supposed to taste like this." Cain rubbed his back, comforting him.

Ambrose just threw him an annoyed look. "_D.G._ knows!" he complained.

"Then maybe you should ask her to help you…," Cain suggested.

"But the Christmas party is supposed to be a surprise for her!" Ambrose insisted.

Cain sighed. He hadn't even had his morning coffee yet. He was too tired for this kind of conversation. He thought for a moment, then said, "Listen, why don't you go and take a bath. You look like a cookie yourself. In the meantime, I'll clean up this battlefield. And then we'll have breakfast and see what we can do about this cookie crisis."

Observing the mess, Ambrose shrank in his lap embarrassed. "I-I couldn't ask that of you! All this chaos!" he stuttered, then added more quietly, "Maybe we should just burn the whole place down."

But Cain just laughed, "Get out!" He pushed the bundle off his lap and slapped Ambrose on his behind. The advisor scurried out of the kitchen.

Cain set to work. He picked up the fallen sheet and swept up the cookies scattered across the floor. They smelled wonderfully. So he picked one up and tried it. It tasted wonderful as well. "Maybe not all of his work was in vain," he thought to himself and searched for a clean bowl to store them, hiding the broken ones at the bottom. No one had to know they had already been lying on the floor.

He took a heart and tried the other kinds too. Maybe more of them were edible. Unfortunately, most were burnt. And in one kind, that actually looked good, Ambrose had used salt instead of sugar. Cain got the trash can and swept everything off the table. He washed the bowls, cleaned the countertops and swept the floor.

When Ambrose returned from the bathroom – it had taken forever to remove the sticky cookie dough that had been entangled in his curls – Cain had cleaned the kitchen and prepared breakfast. He sat at the table with a cup of coffee in his hands. In front of him stood the bowl of cookies. He pointed at it, "The ones you dropped were actually pretty good."

"Oh, Wyatt, we can't possibly serve these!" he scolded.

"Why not? No one will know the difference," Cain shrugged.

Ambrose wanted to protest, but decided against it. He just threw his hands up defeated, "Fine, whatever!"

After breakfast, Ambrose got up to clear the table and discovered the bowls with the remaining icings. "What do we do with these?"

"I already have an idea!" Cain returned playfully, raising a suggestive eyebrow. He pulled him into his lap, the bowl still in Ambrose's hand. Cain dipped his finger in, then smeared it over the advisor's lips. Then he licked the sugar off, before drawing him in for a passionate kiss that left him breathless. "I think you owe me for cleaning up this little mess you created," he whispered into his ear, sucking kisses along his jaw line and sending shivers down his spine.

"I'm at your mercy," Ambrose chuckled, taking Cain's hand and sucking the finger, still covered in sugarcoating, into his mouth.


	3. The Reluctant Tin Man's New Clothes

The Reluctant Tin Man's New Clothes

Ambrose looked at his pocket watch. Only half an hour left until the guests arrived for their Christmas party. He'd tried to explain the occasion and told them to dress to the nines. D.G. was the only one who had no idea. He couldn't wait to see her face. She would be so surprised!

For the third time already, he went over his mental check list: the soup was simmering on the stove, the roast was in the oven, he'd set the table, and laid out a suit for Cain. Everything was ready. He checked himself over in the mirror one last time and left the bathroom.

When he emerged he found Cain in front of the standing mirror, eying the outfit he'd chosen for him suspiciously: a plain black woolen suit with a vest and a white high collar shirt with a matching tie. Ambrose thought Cain looked absolutely stunning in the outfit. He himself had picked a dark red velvet suit and a cream-colored shirt. They would look gorgeous together.

Cain turned around, his eyes pleading with Ambrose. "Do I have to wear this?" he nearly whined, spreading his arms. The shirt was only halfway buttoned. The tie hung loosely around his neck.

"Don't you want to look pretty tonight?" Ambrose chided.

The frown on Cain's forehead deepened. "No, _**you**_ want me to look pretty. I only want to survive this."

"I always want you to look good," the advisor teased. He stepped up to Cain and started doing up the remaining buttons.

Cain caught his hands in his own and pulled him closer until they were pressed together. "Why don't we just forget about this stupid party and spent the night with something more fun?" he whispered into his ear, sucking lightly on the earlobe. Slowly, he wandered over to his lips, lapping at the corner of his mouth until Ambrose finally returned the kiss.

For a moment, Ambrose reveled in the sensation. He was about to just give in. He could feel Cain's heartbeat increasing against the palm of his hand. Cain's fingers wandered under his velvet jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. Then they fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, hidden underneath the lace. He could feel Cain's impatient growl vibrating against his lips.

That brought Ambrose out of his stupor and he regained control over his body. He broke the kiss and took a step back, slightly out of breath. Ocean blue eyes bore into him, seducing him, luring him in, almost drowning him.

Shaking his head, he panted, "No! It took me a week to prepare everything for tonight. We're gonna have this party and you're gonna enjoy yourself, mister."

But the Tin Man didn't relent that easily. He grabbed him around the waist and drew him in again, sucking bruises into his neck. Ambrose struggled against the strong grip and finally managed to push Cain away. "Wyatt Cain! That's enough!" he scolded, "What are you, a spoiled brat? You're not gonna get your will tonight!"

Cain didn't have enough yet though. He grabbed him again, his fingers firmly digging into Ambrose's buttocks this time, and ground their hips together. "Would a brat do this?" he rasped. Ambrose could already feel the growing bulge pressing into him. But the advisor was not in the mood. He was fuming by now.

Without further hesitation, he grabbed the tie, still hanging loosely around Cain's neck, and tied a knot into it, tight enough to choke the Tin Man. "Get dressed!" he ordered.

Cain had to let go to free himself, and Ambrose used this opportunity to escape from the bedroom.

Only now did he realize that someone had been knocking several times already. When he opened the door he was still flushed, his collar undone, and a bright purple bruise spread on the right side of his neck.

Jeb stood in the door, looking him over bemusedly. "Am I interrupting something?" he grinned.

Ambrose didn't catch his innuendo. "Your father's just being difficult…" he sighed.

"Yeah, I can see that!" The younger Cain pointed at his neck for emphasis.

Only now did Ambrose catch on. He stepped up to the mirror hanging next to the door and his face froze as he examined his reflection. "Wyatt!" he growled and stormed through the bedroom into the bathroom, the door slamming behind him.

Jeb followed carefully and leaned in the doorframe to the bedroom. He watched his father struggle with the shirt's collar. "Was that really necessary? He's been looking forward to this all week. And you have to go and ruin his evening," he lectured.

"Watch it! I'll tell you when you're old enough to lecture me, _son_!" he tried to look threatening, but failed miserably, as he was still trying to fasten the tiny buttons, his features contorted in concentration. Eventually, he gave up and sighed in frustration, "You're right. It's just… whenever I see this stiff necked costume Glitch likes to put me in, I want to run away… This isn't me! I don't even know how to put it on…"

His son smiled at him sympathetically. "Go and apologize. And, who knows, if you're a good boy, maybe he'll even help you dress…" He was interrupted by another knock on the door. "Meanwhile, I'll take care of _your_ guests." With this he left the room and closed the sliding doors behind him.

Once the doors to the living room had shut, the door behind Cain opened and Ambrose came out, looking as impeccably as before. "See, Tin Man, I told you you're a brat! Why didn't you just ask me to help you get dressed?" he was still scolding but now his voice was colored with amusement.

"I'm a grown man. I can dress myself," Cain pouted, embarrassed.

Ambrose fastened the last buttons on his shirt and straightened the collar. He rubbed his cheek along Cain's stubble and purred, "You know the only thing I like better than dressing you is undressing you…" Cain could feel his breath ghost over his skin and the smile spreading on Ambrose's lips. He shuddered. The confession had made his fantasy run wild and he hoped for more.

But the advisor was already dancing out of his reach and to the bed where he took the vest, holding it out for Cain who eyed it grudgingly. "Come on, boy scout. Here's the deal: put on the vest and we'll forget about the tie and the jacket," Ambrose offered, waving the garment at him.

Cain relented and slipped into the vest presented to him. Ambrose buttoned it and turned the Tin Man toward the mirror. "Now, don't you look absolutely fabulous?" he whispered from behind Cain's back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He wrapped his arms around the broad chest. "And I promise, if you behave yourself, you'll get a reward later," he winked at their reflection.

And with that, he turned and sauntered to the door, leaving Cain to stare after him, dumbfounded. Ambrose snapped his fingers, "Come! Our guests are waiting." Cain could only obey and follow after his master.


	4. O Christmas Tree

O Christmas Tree

When the hosts finally arrived, their guests were already gathered around the tree in the living room. Everyone had followed Ambrose's invitation and looked their best. Jeb wore his formal uniform. Even Raw and Kalm were groomed, their fur shiny. Kalm also wore a bow on his head and looked absolutely adorable. Only D.G. felt a little out of place. She wore black pants and a white cardigan trimmed with fur. She still refused to wear the puffy dresses deemed for a princess, if she didn't have to. Her hair was waving around her shoulders.

She was looking around herself dazed, like a child in a candy store, her eyes big and glistening with tears of joy, when her eyes met with Ambrose's. "Oh Glitch! That's fantastic! How did you…?" She wrapped him in an embrace, kissing his cheeks. "Thank you!" D.G. paused, looking down on herself. "But you should've told me! I'm not even properly dressed! I mean, look at all of you…"

"I think you look beautiful, as always," Jeb interrupted her, ducking his head shyly.

His father observed him, smiling supportively. "He's right, kiddo!"

The compliments earned father and son each a peck on the cheek, which made Jeb blush deeply. Everyone was trying their hardest not to laugh at him.

To break the awkward silence that followed, Ambrose asked, "Hungry anyone?"

All affirmed and he led them to the richly decorated table. Dinner passed in much chattering and laughing. All were in high spirits. Even Cain had forgotten about his grumpy mood earlier. It felt great to have their 'family' back together. They hardly ever had the time to meet these days. Each of them occupied an important post in the new government: D.G. was a crown princess in training, Ambrose serve the Queen as he always had, Cain commanded the Tin Man, and Raw had become Senator to his people. Sometimes they dearly missed the days out on the road when it had only been them, without all the responsibilities. But for tonight, all that was forgotten.

After dinner, they resettled into the living room where they enjoyed more wine and the cookies Cain had managed to save from the kitchen massacre. Being sated, they had fallen into a comfortable silence, appreciating the soft light emitted by the candles on the tree and the warm glow coming from the fireplace.

Suddenly, D.G. broke the silence, "There's only one thing missing though…" Ambrose, who had been resting his head on Cain's shoulder, bolted upright, looking at her worriedly. "…the gifts under the tree," she concluded.

Ambrose looked disappointed. He'd wanted to create the perfect Christmas for the princess and now he'd apparently forgotten about an important detail. But he was also confused. He tilted his head, "Didn't you say Santa Clause brought the gifts?"

D.G. laughed heartily, "Oh Glitch! That was only a fairytale, silly!" She ruffled his curls and kissed his forehead.

"Oh…" He slumped down embarrassed. A blush spread cross his cheeks as he picked on his lace trimmed sleeves. "I'm sorry," he whispered depressed. Cain rubbed his back soothingly.

"Don't be!" D.G. got up and danced around the room. "You know, this is already the perfect gift for me!" Everyone agreed with her wholeheartedly. "…if only my sister were here…," she sighed.

"I invited her. But I guess she didn't understand what I was inviting her to…," Ambrose explained.

"Or she ran into our parents and they didn't let her go. Mom will be fuming when she hears we've been celebrating Christmas behind her back…," the princess sighed dejectedly.

"Leave your mother to me. I can handle her," Ambrose winked.

"You sure do!" she nodded, then made up her mind. "I'll be right back!" she called, running out the door.

Only minutes later, she was back, Azkadellia in tow. The poor princess seemed to be completely taken aback as she stood behind her sister, a little out of breath. "Good evening," she greeted in that shy manner she had adopted ever since the Witch was gone. She even curtsied.

"No need to be shy! We're all friends here!" D.G. ushered her inside. "She didn't dare come, you know. She thought she had only been invited by courtesy," she explained and her sister grew even smaller behind her.

Once everyone had welcomed her into their circle it didn't take long for her to adjust though. Kalm, sensing her insecurity, had cuddled close to her and she'd discovered the bow on his forehead, which she found just as endearing as her sister. She stroked his fur, taking strength from the touch and shyly joined into their conversation. She had been reserved at first, but after the first hour she had been officially adopted into their family and chatted heartily with them as if she'd always belonged there. The wine did the rest.

When all were fairly tipsy D.G. huddled together with Azkadellia. They were plotting something.

Jeb was standing by the window, observing a strange branch with white fruit on it that hung over his head. There was one hanging in every window and he wondered why.

He heard steps and turned around to be face to face with Azkadellia. She was standing way too close for comfort. He fidgeted nervously and had to swallow hard. He wanted to say something, but couldn't muster the words.

And then, all of a sudden, she closed her eyes and kissed him, right on the lips.

He blushed even more then when D.G. had kissed him. His face was beet red. Azkadellia's usually pale porcelain skin, too, had taken on a rosy color. Her eyes sparked. D.G. giggled like a school girl. The rest only stood around, gaping at them. No one understood what was happening.

D.G. had to calm herself and wipe the tears from her eyes before she could explain, still interrupted by bursts of laughter, "It's an old custom to kiss under the mistletoe. It brings happiness."

Ambrose didn't waste any time. He dragged poor Cain, who was distracted, watching his son bemusedly and wondering whether this had been his first kiss, to the next window with mistletoe in it. Before Cain even had a chance to react Ambrose had already drawn him into an ambitioned kiss, all tongues and teeth. His arms were locked tightly around Cain's neck. He wanted to make sure they would be extraordinarily happy next annual.

The kiss made Cain forget about the world. When Ambrose broke it after two minutes he was left stupid and staggering. He had to grab Ambrose's jacket for support. "Damn it, scarecrow!" he hissed out of breath.

Their audience broke into laughter. D.G. was actually howling. Even Azkadellia and Jeb had come out of their own stupor and joined in with the others.

Ambrose beamed and threw them one of his trademark lopsided grins. Christmas was the best invention ever!


End file.
